
Class 

Book 

Copyiiglitlsli 



CDRfRIGHT DEPOSm 



BEYOND THE MARNE 




Hennette Cuvru-Magot, from a recent portrait 



BEYOND THE MARNE 

Sluincy — Huiry — Voisins 
before and during the battle 



BY 

HENRIETTE CUVRU-MAGOT 

TRANSLATED BY 

KATHARINE BABBITT 



ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 




l|SCII\E-aVOD| 



BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1 9 1 8 

By small, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
(incorporated) 



^ 






JUL >5 1918 

©Ci.A40yt)98 



b 



To 
MILDRED ALDRICH 

" Will you allow me, Miss Aldrich, to 
pay you the tribute of my admiration for 
the lofty courage you have shown, and 
to express to you my gratitude for the 
comfort you have given my family dur- 
ing these early days of September ? " 



PREFACE 

MADEMOISELLE HENRIETTE CU- 
VRU-Magot, who, since the 
early months of the war, has been 
nursing the wounded at the Aux- 
iliary Hospital of rUnion des 
Femmes de France, at Quincy, near 
Meaux, lives in the picturesque vil- 
lage of Voisins, a dependency of that 
commune. 

Daughter of a superior officer who 
played an active and brilliant part 
in the war of 1870, granddaughter 
of a Garde-du-Corps of Louis XVI, 
she heard from childhood in her 
home many tales of valiant deeds 
performed by the French Army. 

And now, in her turn, wishing to 

[ vii ] 



Preface 
complete the story of the glorious 
past, witnessed by her father and 
grandfather, by the story of the 
heroic present, at which she herself 
is an onlooker, she is about to tell us 
what she saw from her modest cot- 
tage at the very beginning of the 
Great War, and trace to us a poign- 
ant picture of the events which took 
place under her eyes. 

Mademoiselle Cuvru-Magot be- 
gan her journal August 2, 19 14, 
thinking, of course, that she would 
never know the war itself except 
through the accounts given by our 
soldiers when at last they should re- 
turn. 

Five weeks later she was in the 
midst of a battle, and that, of all 
others, the Battle of the Marne. 
[ viii ] 



Preface 
The real merit of these notes — 
all too few, alas! since they leave off 
on the morrow of the Victory of the 
Marne — is not to be sought in the 
military incidents recorded by Made- 
moiselle Cuvru-Magot, though even 
these have their importance, but 
rather in the noble sentiments she 
expresses, which stand out above 
everything else, especially during the 
heart-rending hours of the invasion. 
In her village, cut off from the rest 
of the world, she finds herself almost 
alone with those who are most dear 
to her — too weak to protect them, 
powerless on the other hand to sacri- 
fice herself, to give all her strength, 
all her sympathy to the soldiers 
wounded in the battle that is being 
waged there, a few steps from her 
door. [ ix ] 



Preface 

Mademoiselle Cuvru-Magot was 
kind enough to let me see her manu- 
script, and at my earnest request has 
consented to publish it. 

It is with interest and emotion that 
we read these pages marked by ar- 
dent faith and by an unfaltering 
trust in the eternal destiny of our 
country. And they are pages written 
by a Frenchwoman who remembers 
with just pride that she is the 
daughter and granddaughter of 
soldiers. 

Georges Husson 

Vice-President of the Literary and Historical 
Society of Brie 



[x ] 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page v'' 
Mile. Henriette Cuvru-Magot, from a 

Recent Portrait Frontispiece 

The Mareuil Road from Voisins to the 

Marne, the Ancient Pave-des-Roizes . lo 
Terrace of the Actors' Home at Couilly, 

established by Coquelin, who died here 20, 
Voisins-Quincy. Rue de Conde . . . 32/ 

Miss Mildred Aldrich 36 

The Junction of the Marne and the 

Canal de Chalifert 42 

Route national from Couilly to the 

Demi-Lune 52 

The Road leading away from the 

Chateau de Conde, across the Grand 

Morin 66 

Wounded Soldiers at the Hospital of 

Quincy 76 . 

Voisins-Quincy. Rue de Conde ... 86 
Chateau in the Park of the Actors' Home 

at Couilly 96 

Tomb of Coquelin lOO 

On the Banks of the Marne 104 

The Home of Mile. Henriette Cuvru- 
Magot 106 *- 



BEYOND THE MARNE 



I 

2 August, 19 1 4. 

WAR is declared! Up to the last 
minute I would not believe it. 
Is such a thing still possible in this 
century? Alas, yes! There is no 
denying the facts. 

Even these last few days I felt per- 
fectly confident. We have been on 
the verge of war so many times be- 
fore this, but the danger has always 
been averted by means of diplomatic 
parleys. I thought that in our day 
and generation disputes were settled 
in that way, without bloodshed, as a 
matter of course. But now! It seems 
to me we have just gone backward 
several centuries! 

[ 3 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

I did not realize the truth until a 
little while ago when I took my 
brother to the station at Esbly. He 
is on his way to Paris to get his 
mobilization orders. How I wish 
I were a man and could go with him ! 
This is the first time in our lives we 
have ever been separated, and under 
what circumstances! How sad it is 
to think that in every town and vil- 
lage in France there is the same 
anguish of farewells. 

The pealing of the tocsin is a 
funeral knell that strikes terror to 
every mother's heart. 

The great grief that has stricken 
the earth is borne from village to 
village on the church bells like a 
single long sob. 

[ 4 ] 



II 

4 August, 191 4. 

EVERY day some of the men 
about here start for the front, 
but it is at the Esbly station, where I 
have just been, that the leave-takings 
are the most heart-rending. 

The men are very grave, but they 
start off without a complaint, without 
a murmur. And if they are cou- 
rageous, the women who accompany 
them, understanding fully their own 
great duty, do not give way to their 
feelings for a single instant. They 
are determined that no tears of theirs 
shall make harder the task of father 
or husband. It is really sublime. 

Huge bunches and garlands of 

[ 5 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

roses are twined over the cars. Here 
and there is the vivid note of our 
national bouquet of simple wild- 
flowers — cornflowers, daisies, and 
poppies, scarce at this season. In the 
cannon's mouth and on the gun- 
carriages are branches of laurel. 

Inscriptions chalked on all the cars 
bear witness to the good morale of 
our troops. 

On the locomotive of a return train 
we read : 

Our souls to God, 
Our blood to our country, 
Our hearts to our women, 
Our bodies to the wicked. 

How very French that is! 

It is as if these trains, decked with 
flowers and flags, were on their way 
to a vast festival. When each train 
[ 6 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

comes to a standstill there is an im- 
pressive moment of silence, broken 
by cheers as it moves off. 

Although I was deeply stirred by 
these departures, I stayed a long time 
at the station, filled with admiration 
at the ardor with which every man 
answers the call of his country. It 
is a sight never to be forgotten. 

On the way home from the station, 
I meet a friend whom I have known 
a long time, a good man who is 
father of a family. In order to spare 
his wife and children the worst of the 
farewells, he has insisted on going 
alone to the station. He asks per- 
mission to embrace me. " I have 
known you since you were such a 
little tot. Mademoiselle." Of course 
I consent willingly. 

[ 7 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Highways as well as railroads 
are being used for transporting men 
and supplies. Auto-buses, delivery 
wagons of Paris shops — the Bon 
Marche, Galeries Lafayette, Prin- 
temps, still bearing their signboards 
and advertisements — go by on the 
road to Meaux, carrying munitions 
(at least we imagine so). They are 
tight shut, and, to judge by their dull 
rumble, heavily laden. 

Just as I reach the outskirts of 
Quincy, I see a group of men armed 
with pitchforks and sticks coming 
down the road. Farther on, a lady 
with white hair is holding a Brown- 
ing aimed at the sky. 

What is happening? 

I learn that an automobile driven 
by Germans and flying the Red Cross 
C 8 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

flag has been signalled. The order 
has just come by telephone to try to 
stop it. 

The constable is blockading the 
road with carts, planks, and farming 
implements. I immediately start 
back to Voisins, and urge everyone 
I meet to do likewise. 

In the distance an automobile com- 
ing at a rapid pace from the direction 
of Couilly stops suddenly at the sight 
of the barricade. The little group of 
armed civilians approach. 

It is too far away for me to make 
ont anything more, but I see a second 
automobile, driven at top speed, slow 
down, and then swiftly wheel about. 
In my anxiety to give the alarm in 
Voisins, I do not notice which way 
it goes. 

[9 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

At Voisins no automobile has been 
seen, but barricades are erected, 
nevertheless. While I am answering 
the questions people ask me about 
this automobile story, I suddenly 
notice some marks scratched on the 
wall of the house in front of which 
we are standing, at the corner of the 
roads to Huiry and Voisins. 

The drawing looks like a map, and 
has an arrow beside it. It must have 
been made a very short time ago, and 
looks as if it were made with a nail or 
the point of a knife. The blades of 
grass underneath are still covered 
with the fine powder and plaster that 
fell from it. 

The arrow points towards Pave- 
des-Roizes, and, on studying the 
lines, we think someone was trying 
[ lo ] 




The Mareuil Road from Voisins to the Marne, 
the ancient Pave-des-Roizes 



Beyond the Marne 

to point out the road to Couilly — 
Mareuil Street, the road of Champ- 
Madame (going from Demi-Lune to 
Huiry), Huiry Street, Conde Street, 
and once more Mareuil Street (or 
Pave-des-Roizes). 

We dare not say to each other what 
is in our minds. It occurs to one of 
us to follow the direction of the ar- 
row, and, to our surprise, we find 
other arrows leading all the way to 
the Marne. What is more, they are 
all newly made. Some of them point 
in the direction of Paris, and have the 
word 'Taris" written in large letters 
underneath. Was the auto to reach 
Meaux by going through Mareuil in 
case the State road was cutoff? Even 
along the State road there were 
several guiding marks. On the blinds 

[ II ] 



Beyond the Marne 

of a farmhouse just outside of Quincy 
is a large arrow, pointing downward 
towards the German colors. 

We were unable to find out what 
became of this automobile. The first 
one that was stopped — thus allow- 
ing the second to escape — was that 
of a French general, who was doubt- 
less obliged to give numerous proofs 
of his identity in the course of an 
hour. 



[ 12 ] 



Ill 

8 August, 19 1 4. 

TO-DAY our gas and water sup- 
plies were cut off! The town- 
crier announces that people are for- 
bidden to circulate on the high roads 
between 6 P.M. and 6 A.M., and that 
foreigners in the commune are not to 
leave it under penalty of immediate 
arrest. 

A home guard has been organized, 
which is to be armed and patrol the 
streets at night. 



[ 13 ] 



IV 

20 August, 191 4. 
^ I^HE efforts to find the automo- 
-*■ bile signalled on the 6th were 
perhaps not without success. We 
were told to-day that an automobile 
with nuns in it had been seized. A 
child happened to call attention to the 
size of the nuns' hands, and it was dis- 
covered that they were no other than 
two German officers. Their auto- 
mobile contained a large quantity of 
powder. 

These Germans were shot at Lagny 
almost immediately, I am told, but 
of this I am not positive, as I know it 
only by hearsay. 

[ 14 ] 



V 

30 August, 191 4. 
'T^RAIN loads of wounded keep 
-*- passing through Esbly. We all 
flock to the station, in the hope of 
bringing back good news. Alas, 
nothing comes but great numbers of 
refugees and wounded. The hospital 
installed in the waiting-room of the 
station is not large enough to care for 
all the wounded and provide com- 
forts for the refugees. There are 
many young girls, but not enough 
to attend to all these unfortunates. 
While some of us are busy dressing 
wounds, others hasten to carry sand- 
wiches and drink to the refugees on 

[ 15 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

the trains, many of whom have had 
nothing to eat or drink for twenty 
hours. 

Trains do not stop long enough at 
the station to allow the women of the 
Red Cross to go through all the cars. 
Even though it is against the rules, 
we reach the platform from the rail- 
road-crossing and distribute fruit, 
bread, and chocolate to the children. 

Our brave soldiers, for all their 
wounds and their weariness, look 
confident, and the ones we are able to 
approach assure us that they do not 
doubt our victory for a single instant. 
They have seen it. I can read it in 
their eyes. 

How I long to be useful in these 
tragic hours! It is the duty of 
everyone to the full measure of his 
r i6 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

strength. No effort to help, how- 
ever small, is unimportant. 

Unfortunately, the hospital at 
Quincy is not yet completely or- 
ganized, but meanwhile a branch has 
been fitted up at the railroad station. 
I am assigned to the Quincy hospital, 
and so am obliged to wait until it is 
opened. 

There are moments when I could 
weep at not being able to do as much 
as I should like to relieve all this 
suffering — to give of my strength 
since I cannot give of my purse. I 
w^ant to start for the hospitals near 
the front, but my mother absolutely 
forbids it. 

I wrote to Bishop Marbeau asking 
to be allowed to work in one of his 
hospitals. He answers that Meaux 

[ 17 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

has no hospital as yet, but that he will 
let me know in case there is any way 
I can be of use. He sends with his 
letter several packages containing 
warm clothing and various useful 
articles for needy soldiers of the 
neighborhood. I am deeply touched. 

Quincy possesses a dispensary in- 
stalled by Madame Bruneau, mistress 
of the chateau. This dispensary, 
directed by a Sister of Mercy, Sister 
Jules, is of great service to the civil- 
ian population in time of peace. 
Since war was declared, it has 
been transformed into a hospital for 
wounded or sick soldiers, and the 
management entrusted to Madame 
Rene Benoist, wife of the mayor of 
the commune. 

This hospital has two branches 
[ i8 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

— one at Pont-aux-Dames, in the 
Home for Aged Actors founded by 
Coquelin, the other at the Esbly 
railroad station. From here the 
wounded who arrive on the trains 
will be taken to Quincy or Pont-aux- 
Dames. 

Doctor Pigornet of Crecy is in 
charge of the medical service. 

So far no orders have been received 
from the Sanitary Service assigning 
wounded to either branch. We are 
obliged to wait for these orders. 
Each annex has its staff appointed. 
Quincy is not entirely fitted up. 
Pont-aux-Dames is organized, and 
the branch at the station is already 
at work. 

Trains keep rushing to the Eastern 
frontier in an endless procession. 

[ 19 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

The roar is incessant, especially at 
night, and a dismal sound it is. 

Refugees in even greater numbers 
throng the roads. The towns on the 
other side of the Marne are beginning 
to be evacuated. It is a desolate sight 

Old people manage with difficulty 
to keep their balance on carts piled 
high with household goods and fod- 
der. Young women walk, carrying 
little ones whose eyes are wide with 
fatigue and fright at all this com- 
motion. 

Carts follow carts, crowded close 
together in one long line. They come 
from Liege, from Namur, from our 
invaded regions of the North! 

In the midst of all these people in 
vehicles and on foot, terrified cattle 
jostle each other. Some that were in 
[ 20 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

leadinghave broken loose ; others, still 
tied, cannot keep up, and let them- 
selves be dragged along. Sheep and 
cows run about the fields or simply 
stop where they are and begin to graze. 

As a result of the increasing diffi- 
culty in taking their cattle with them, 
peasants dispose of them for almost 
nothing: a cow, forty francs. 

The hospital at Quincy, though it 
cannot be of service to the wounded, 
will at least, while waiting for them, 
have cared for the unfortunate refu- 
gees. It is distributing soup to three 
hundred people daily, as well as milk 
and other food and drink. Tired 
women stop there to rest a little be- 
fore resuming their sad journey to 
the unknown. 

They all have a tale of horror to 

[ 21 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

tell — barbarous acts committed by 
the Germans in the homes these 
people are fleeing from — acts so 
terrible that it is almost impossible to 
believe them. One man tells us that 
a young boy in his family had both 
hands cut oflF by these wretches. 
" This child," he said, '^ must have 
been taken along this road. We 
started out together, but I was so 
tired and hungry that I stopped to 
rest, and got separated from the 
others. The Boches have destroyed 
everything I possessed." (I have 
made inquiries. People tell me they 
saw at the Couilly bridge a little 
boy of about seven with both arms 
wrapped in bandages.) 

Supplies of food at the hospital 
are beginning to give out. The town- 

[ 22 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

crier is sent out to make an appeal to 
the generosity of the citizens, and 
once more the kitchen is filled with 
food. 

The town-crier, in conformance 
with instructions from the Prefect, 
orders the civil population to carry 
to the town hall any arms they may 
have in their possession. Everyone 
hastens to comply. In their panic, 
people even carry the ancient arms 
of their panoplies. 

All day long (and for several days 
back as well) Boche aviators have 
been flying over us, and seem to 
be exchanging signals. They come 
from the direction of Meaux, circle 
about in large and small circles as 
far as Voisins, from there they dart 
in a straight line towards Paris, re- 

[ 23 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

turning after rather a long flight, 
still in a straight line in the direction 
of Soissons, where we lose sight of 
them. We have noticed this ma- 
noeuvre several times. 

I walked to Esbly this morning in 
company with a lad of about fifteen 
who has come with his mother to 
take refuge in Conde. He told me 
that, together with several friends 
whom they brought with them in 
their motor, they have been fleeing 
before the enemy all the way from 
Belgium. '* We wanted to go to 
Compiegne," he said, " but were ad- 
vised to come here instead, because 
there was less danger. But here, no 
more than elsewhere," he added, 
after a pause, " are we safe. We 
shall not stay. We leave to-morrow." 
[ 24 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

" But," I asked, ^' what makes you 
think we are in danger here? " 

^' Look at all those 'planes. They 
are Boche machines. They keep just 
ahead of the army. At first we did 
not pay any attention to them, but 
since then we have found out what 
it means. You may be sure their 
troops are not far behind." 

I have decided to go to Paris. 
There I shall find out what is really 
happening. 

At the railroad station they are not 
sure there will be a return train. 
The service may be discontinued at 
any moment. After considering 
the possibility of having to return 
on foot, I start out. Come what 
may, I must see my family in 
Paris. 

[ 2S ] 



Beyond the Marne 

The trains are crammed with 
people and stacked on top of each 
other are bundles and boxes of all 
shapes and sizes. From the boxes 
come the whining of dogs, the 
screeching of birds, and the mewing 
of cats. It is indescribable. 

On the way back I have the luck 
to get a train which takes seven hours 
from Paris to Esbly, being side- 
tracked all along the line to make 
way for trains carrying wounded, 
war supplies, or troops on their way 
to or from the front. 

When I get back to Voisins I am 
plied with questions by a number of 
people who are anxiously awaiting 
my return. I hardly dare give them 
the news I have brought. 

I went to the Bank of France to 
[ 26 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

see my uncle. He advises us to stay 
where we are, — this in spite of the 
fact that the government is being 
moved to Bordeaux next Thursday. 
The Bank is preparing to leave at 
the same time. The courtyard of the 
Bank is full of automobiles and rail- 
road delivery wagons, which, after 
being loaded hastily, start out in 
every direction. 

This news throws everyone into a 
panic. 

English heavy artillery arrived 
to-day. It came by way of Esbly, 
and this afternoon has been taken up 
to Coutevroult where the batteries 
are being installed. Coutevroult is 
on the slope opposite that of Quincy, 
Huiry, Voisins. The Grand-Morin 
flows between. 

[ 27 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

If the Germans come to Quincy, 
or the heights over opposite, we 
shall be between two fires! 

We were awakened last night by 
the tramping and neighing of horses. 
The horses' hoofs seemed to have 
been wrapped in something. The 
sound was muffled. 

My mother and I called to each 
other: " It is the Boches." Did they 
hear us? The windows of our bed- 
room open on the street. At any rate, 
the pace quickened, and finally died 
away in the direction of the ford — 
a road leading to the Aulnois woods 
behind our house, then to Pave-des- 
Roizes, communicating with the 
Conde woods and the banks of the 
Chalifert canal. 

We did not get up quickly enough 
[ 28 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

to find out what this expedition was 
that was being carried on with so 
much mystery. It is a great pity, for 
the night was clear, and it would 
certainly have been possible to see. 



[29 ] 



VI 

2 September, 191 4. 

THE King's Own Yorkshire 
Light Infantry, commanded 
by Captain Simpson, arrived at the 
same time as the heavy artillery, and 
is camping at Demi-Lune. The 
regiment has retreated all the way 
from Belgium and these brave men 
have been fighting continually since 
the Battle of Mons on August 23. 
These are their first days of rest. 

Heavy ration trucks and hospital 
ambulances, superbly appointed, line 
the road. 

The soldiers are splendidly set up 
and perfectly equipped. Spruce, 
shining, freshly shaved, they are as 

[ 30 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

clean and correct when they present 
themselves to us as if they had just 
stepped out of a bandbox. They are 
very reserved in speech, and do not 
talk much unless we question them. 
Even so, we have to be careful not 
to put indiscreet questions. 

On our asking: ''Where are the 
Germans? " " Far, far away," they 
answer, with a wave of the hand. 
They do their best to reassure us and 
gaily begin whistling " Tipperary." 

Their coolness allays our fears. 

This afternoon the detachment of 
Hussars stationed at Meaux marched 
by. People were already uneasy, 
and after that they were more than 
ever convinced that it was time to 
flee. This evening everyone is im- 
patient to be off. 

[ 31 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Esbly is already evacuated. A few 
Scotch troops are beginning to arrive 
there. 

Neufmontiers, Penchard, Dam- 
martin, all the communes in the 
immediate vicinity of Meaux, are 
evacuated. Official records of real 
estate, also birth, marriage, and death 
registers, and the municipal archives 
have been removed to the quarries 
of Mareuil, along with the arms 
deposited by civilians. 

Departures are growing more fre- 
quent. People in Quincy are pre- 
paring to go, likewise some of the 
inhabitants of Voisins. The mayor 
and the cure have already been 
mobilized. 

Are we alone to remain behind? 

Before leaving, everyone wants to 

[ 32 ] 




a 



Beyond the Marne 

save his most treasured possessions. 
Mattresses, beds, old furniture — 
the most absurd and unlikely things 
— are carried from one end of the 
village to the other to be hidden in 
the underground passages which 
abound in Voisins and Huiry. 

Holes are dug to contain barrels 
crammed with linen and household 
goods. In all this extraordinary 
activity there is very little reason or 
method. People are half crazed. 
They even hide furniture and various 
other objects in the tunnels of the 
plaster quarries! 

To abandon one's home seems like 
deserting a friend. And yet we shall 
have to consider it, for we may be 
forced to go. I promised my brother 
to see that his wife and children were 

[ 33 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

removed to a place of safety in case 
of danger. We are none of us ter- 
rified as yet. Though I have a feel- 
ing that the battle will not come as 
far as this, I am doing all I can to 
persuade my mother to leave. It is 
only when I speak of the safety of 
the children that I succeed in shaking 
her determination to stay. Mean- 
while, the danger does not seem im- 
minent, and we keep putting off our 
departure till the morrow. 

At the turning of the road that 
leads from Demi-Lune to Voisins, 
on the hilltop overlooking the valley 
of the Marne, one of the humble 
dwellings of the hamlet of Huiry 
was transformed a few months ago 
into a beautiful cottage. It is two 
stories high, with a pointed and 
[ 34 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

irregular roof, but most graceful in 
its whole effect. It is here that an 
American lady came to live in the 
early months of this year, hoping to 
pass in this solitary spot calm and 
peaceful days. 

Miss Aldrich, a woman of cou- 
rageous soul and great heart, is an 
unspeakable consolation to the little 
group of women who have remained 
near her. Filled with the most gen- 
erous sentiments, giving lavishly of 
her sympathy and guidance, she 
charms all who come in contact with 
her. 

I go to see Miss Aldrich every 
day. Her conversation delights me 
and her qualities of mind and heart 
fill me with admiration. By her 
force of character in the tragic hours 

[ 3S ] 



Beyond the Marne 

we are living through she helps us 
to rise above emotions that at times 
nearly sweep us off our feet. 

If a bit of good news reaches her, 
I am sure to see her come hurrying 
down the hill towards our house to 
talk over with us what she has just 
learned. 

She is truly French at heart, and 
knows just what to say to make us 
feel the same confidence she feels 
herself. If, before she came, we 
were beginning to waver, we discover 
after she has been here that we are 
once more strong and brave. 

Will you allow me, Miss Aldrich, 
to pay you the tribute of my admira- 
tion for the lofty courage you have 
shown, and to express to you my 
gratitude for the comfort you have 

[ 36 ] 




. Miss Mildred Aldrich, the author of "A Hilltop on the Marne" 
and "On the Edge of the War Zone." Riding in her cart behind 
her donkey, Ninette, Miss Aldrich is a familiar figure in the coun- 
try-side round about "La Creste," her "house on the hilltop." 



Beyond the Marne 

given my family during these early 
days of September? 

We learned from Captain Simp- 
son at Miss Aldrich's that German 
patrols had crossed the Marne in 
advance of the English. English 
aviators have seen them. Can it be 
that the horses we have been hear- 
ing for several nights back belong to 
these patrols? 

The soldiers of the King's Own 
Yorkshire Regiment mount guard 
until 6 P.M. in Voisins and also along 
the canal that joins the Marne to 
the Morin. At that time Captain 
Simpson suddenly receives marching 
orders and starts of]f at once in the 
direction of Crecy. The Yorkshire- 
men are promptly replaced by a 
regiment of Bedfordshire Light In- 
fantry. [ 37 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

General French and the English 
General Staff are at Villeneuve-le- 
Comte, it is said. Motorcycle mes- 
sengers maintain communications 
between the various English corps 
that surround us. 



[ 38 ] 



VII 

3 September, 19 14. 

SEVERAL days ago the hospitals 
near Meaux received orders to 
evacuate their wounded and equip- 
ment to Orleans. The last train-loads 
of wounded are to pass through 
Esbly to-day. So, in spite of our 
reluctance to leave, we shall have to 
make up our minds to it. 

This morning, Madame Benoist 
told us of these orders, and urged 
us to leave, and, for the sake of the 
children, as quickly as possible. The 
Germans are advancing rapidly. 
They are at Saint-Soupplets, she tells 
us. She kindly offers us a horse and 

[ 39 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

carriage, saying that it is almost out 
of the question to take the train. 

The trains crawl along at a snail's 
pace, gathering up everyone in their 
path. Refugees wait all along the 
track, and at the stations are jammed 
together pell-mell in the midst of all 
sorts of luggage and supplies. 

The station at Esbly is to be closed 
and the hospital moved away. 

We accept Madame Benoist's offer 
with gratitude, for we must make 
sure that the children are safe. 

So we pack up hastily and load the 
carriage, which we have no small 
difficulty in finding, as it is haled 
in every direction by people who are 
trying to escape. Everyone is getting 
more and more distracted. 

We start out without locking up 

[ 40 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

anything, or even so much as closing 
the doors. We can't help feeling 
that we shall not go very far. 

Before being bestowed on us, the 
horse has already made several trips 
and carried heavy loads. He is 
fagged out. After going a few steps, 
he falls on his knees. We manage to 
get him up. Will he start off again? 
Certainly not. He plants his feet 
firmly on the ground and puts up 
a most lively resistance. We can't 
make him budge an inch, i' 

The English are blowing up, one 
by one, all the bridges around us, so 
as to cut off the advance of the Ger- 
mans. After each explosion we be- 
gin to dread the next one. They 
shake the house and make the fur- 
niture slide around. The people 

[ 41 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

living near these bridges all had to 
leave; the inhabitants of Conde are 
taking refuge on our plateau, where 
they can watch at a safe distance the 
masses of stone hurled violently into 
the air by the explosions. 

The Couilly bridge is as yet only 
mined. The English will not blow 
it up until they have crossed to the 
other side, in case they are obliged 
to retreat. 

Captain Simpson said that General 
JofTre's orders are to make a final 
stand at the Marne. His orders are 
explicit on this point. If our troops 
are forced back over the Marne, they 
will fall back to the Morin, but the 
enemy will not come that far, he 
adds. 

This morning the English artillery 

[ 42 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

placed batteries at the bottom and 
top of Justice Hill, commanding the 
town of Meaux. From the road- 
maker's cabin where they have es- 
tablished an observation post, like- 
wise from the roof of an isolated 
house on the top of the hill, they 
sweep the plain and direct move- 
ments of troops. Road-maker Du- 
chesne is invited by the English to 
look through their field-glasses, and 
as the weather is very clear, he sees 
the Germans arrive in close forma- 
tion and in great numbers beyond 
Lizy, marching towards La Ferte- 
sous-Jouarre. 

Artillery and infantry are on the 
move. Some of the troops have 
halted and are camping. At this 
moment a loud booming of cannon 

[ 43 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

is heard in the direction of May-en- 
Multien, Acy. But Duchesne can- 
not make out anything in that 
quarter, as it is in a valley cut off 
by the heights of Monthyon and 
Penchard. 

In the direction of Trilbardou 
Chauconin, Neufmontiers, Pen- 
chard, he sees French troops coming 
up and taking positions. 

Presently, at two o'clock, the ar- 
tillery receives orders to start for 
the forest of Le Mans, in an attempt 
to check the Germans v^ho are com- 
ing dov^n the hill and advancing 
towards the forest. The German 
troops seen near Lizy are march- 
ing at this moment upon Mary, 
Germigny-PEveque, Saint-Jean-les- 
deux-Jumeaux, Montceaux, Ville- 
[ 44 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

mareuil, Pierrelevee, on the way to 
Coulommiers. 

English engineers continue to 
blow up bridges. Between three 
and four o'clock they blow up the 
bridges of Trilport, the railroad 
bridge, that of the State road, and 
likewise that between Moulins and 
Meaux. 

The Cornillon bridge, over the 
canal, is mined. 

The last inhabitants have left 
Meaux; they went by on the road 
at the same time as a detachment of 
infantry, falling back before the 
enemy. 

As they go along they shout to us : 
" They have blown up the bridges 
behind us. The Germans are al- 
ready at Trilport! " 

[ 45 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

'' But," asks a woman, ^'is n't there 
any way of stopping them? " 

A lieutenant who heard her ques- 
tion answers : " You might as well 
try to stop the waters of the sea. 
They pour in from everywhere — 
from every highway and byway and 
back-alley — a regular tidal wave. 
Unless some miracle happens they 
will be here by to-night." 

It is impossible, even if we wished 
it, to leave by way of Esbly. There 
are no more trains! Impossible to 
leave on foot — the roads are choked 
with troops and supplies. More- 
over, all the bridges are destroyed, 
the bridge of Lagny along with the 
rest. So we shall stay. God be 
merciful to us! 

There is no more mail — not the 
[ 46 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

slightest communication with the 
outside. We are completely cut off 
from the rest of the world. 

The new English General Staff 
has taken up headquarters at the 
chateau of Quincy. The English 
are camping along State road num- 
ber 36, between Quincy and Voisins. 

The roar of the cannon is coming 
nearer and nearer. The sound elec- 
trifies me. I cannot keep still, but 
go back and forth from Quincy to 
Esbly to get news, and more espe- 
cially to try to send news to my 
brother, I seem to be the only 
human being on the roads. 

What a feeling of sadness it gives 
one to go through these empty vil- 
lages. Every house is like a tomb. 
But those who have gone did not 

[ 47 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

take away everything. Their hearts 
and souls remain behind, keeping 
watch over all that memory holds 
dear. 



[48 ] 



VIII 

4 September, 191 4. 

^ I^HE booming of cannon is still 
-^ very near. 

Scarcely anyone is left in the 
neighborhood. The butcher has 
gone. Fortunately, the baker is 
staying, and as long as the flour holds 
out we shall have bread. 

If this state of isolation lasts long, 
it is proposed to kill and divide up 
the pet horse to feed those who are 
still here. Poor beast! I hope we 
shall not come to that pass. I feel 
a sort of gratitude to him. 

The few people still remaining in 
Quincy and Voisins seem to make 

[ 49 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

one big family. We live almost in 
common. The town-crier, Marin, 
with the help of Pron, the road- 
maker, kill and distribute an ox that 
was left behind by a refugee. Mirat, 
the carpenter, goes a long distance 
now and again to get provisions of 
some kind, and so renders us a very 
great service. Everyone is doing 
something to help everyone else, — 
holding his neighbor by the hand, 
as it were. 

But we must try to find some sort 
of shelter, in case, owing to our posi- 
tion, we should be exposed to a bom- 
bardment. 

Near by are deep spacious wine- 
cellars, which with their massive 
arches look like vast cloisters. We 
prepare provisions and carry them 

[ 50 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

to these cellars, so that we can take 
refuge there if need be. 

One of my aunts said she knew 
a very safe place where we could go 
if for any reason we were obliged to 
leave both the house and the cellar. 
It is one of the most isolated nooks 
in the plaster quarries, and is in the 
form of a trench. It would be im- 
possible to find us there. 

But we shall have to give up that 
" very safe place." My aunt came 
in a little while ago much excited. 
She has discovered that her hiding- 
place is inhabited! And by whom? 
By the Boches themselves! She saw 
their heads emerging from this kind 
of trench. They had carefully 
covered their shining helmets with 
grass. There were ten or more of 

[ 51 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

them, and several cavalrymen far- 
ther on. 

Perhaps it would be prudent to 
bury some of our things. I ask one 
of our old friends to help me dig 
a hole in the garden. We have 
planned to dig it this evening. 

Meanwhile, I go to the hospital 
at Quincy, reaching there just as 
Sister Jules and Sister Marie are 
getting ready to go to Pont-aux- 
Dames. Sister Jules has arranged 
all her dressings and surgical in- 
struments with the most painstaking 
care.^ 



* After rendering various services during the 
Battle of the Marne, the annex at Pont-aux-Dames 
had to be closed. No official order came permitting 
us to receive wounded there. This order did not 
come until January, 1915, and then solely for Quincy, 
which has been in operation since that date as Auxil- 
iary Hospital Number 112, under the intelligent and 



[ 52 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

The road is almost deserted, ex- 
cept for an occasional refugee who 
goes by on foot. The English are 
^^gg^^g trenches at Demi-Lune in 
Mareuil Street, near the State road. 
Trenches are being made also be- 
yond the Quincy plaster quarry, 
near the road to Mont and at Segy. 

There is an encampment in the 
plain in front of the park of the 
chateau. It is meal time. With 
very evident pleasure the men are 
eating raw tomatoes. They are also 
taking great satisfaction in some 
jam that looks most appetizing. The 
jam comes in large cans decorated 
with pictures of the fruit of which 
it is made. 

devoted direction of Madame Rene Benoist, Presi- 
dent of the cantonal committee of the " Union of the 
Women of France." 

[ 53 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Every little while the earth trem- 
bles under our feet. We now hear 
cannon booming all around us. 

This morning I saw a man who 
has just been to Meaux. He tells 
me that as he was going along the 
Magny road, in a place called 
Pageotte, a German automobile 
stopped in front of the demolished 
bridge. An officer got out and 
angrily inquired of several by- 
standers if it was long since the 
bridge had been destroyed. 

" Yes, yesterday," they answered. 

" Then," said he, " what happened 
to the patrol that was ordered to go 
this way this morning? " 

^^The men swam over, together 
with their horses." 

Not being able to cross over him- 
[ 54 ] 



Beyond the Marne 
self the officer ordered his chauffeur 
to turn back. He was escorted by 
two soldiers carrying rifles. 

This evening there is very little 
bread in the neighborhood. I meet 
a tall young Englishman looking for 
bread for himself and his comrades. 
I think there is some at home, so I 
tell him to follow me. When we 
reach the door, he refuses to come 
in and I have to hand him the bread 
through the window. We have very 
little left. Will the baker make 
more to-morrow? He carries off the 
bread, but is especially happy at 
being given some raw tomatoes. Al- 
ways tomatoes! There is nothing 
you can give them that pleases them 
so much. But you have to hand 
them out through the window. One 

[ 55 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

of the men who speaks very good 
French tells us they are under strict 
orders not to go inside a house on 
any pretext whatsoever. And they 
obey implicitly. 

Another man comes and asks us 
for a crucifix. He manages to ex- 
plain to me that he is engaged to be 
married, that perhaps to-morrow he 
will be killed, and he wants to send 
a souvenir to his young lady. We 
are glad to give him one. Before he 
goes, he wraps up his parcel, and in 
return offers to forward a letter to 
my brother by one of their mes- 
sengers. 

At nightfall a platoon of English 
come down from Huiry to search 
the Aulnois woods. Germans have 
been seen there. 

C s^ ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Part of the men are detailed to 
beat the woods while the rest with 
astonishing agility and suppleness 
lie down on the ground and crawl 
away to hide, either lying flat or 
kneeling on the edge or inside of the 
ditch by the road. (This road is the 
continuation of Huiry Street to- 
wards the Aulnois woods, and is 
called Cat Lane.) If the Germans 
are driven out of the woods they will 
be obliged to go along this road. 

Our old friend kept his prom- 
ise to come to the house, and we 
immediately set about preparing 
the hiding-place for our treasures. 
While he was digging in the garden 
I heard very distinctly in the garden 
next door, on the other side of the 
wall, a dull thud that sounded like 

[ 57 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

someone falling, then the same noise 
a second time. Certainly two men 
had jumped over the wall into the 
garden. Our friend heard it too, 
and motioned to me to know if he 
was to continue. Keeping my eye 
on the wall, I nodded to him to go on. 
Hearing nothing more, I was 
tempted to go to the door in the 
garden wall that opens on the little 
woods to see if the English were 
continuing their search, so as to tell 
them to go into the garden next 
door. I don't know why I did not 
carry out this plan, unless because I 
was too much absorbed in putting 
the finishing touches to our hiding- 
place. It was lucky for me, possibly, 
for I might have found myself face 
to face with the Boches. The noises 
[ 58 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

we heard were very likely made by 
two Germans jumping over the wall 
to escape being caught. While the 
English were watching for them in 
the road, they reached the garden 
from the rear, then Pave-des-Roizes, 
and from there slipped away in 
single file in the direction of Demi- 
Lune. (I learned this detail from 
a woman who saw them.) 



[ 59 ] 



IX 

5 September, 191 4. 

THERE is no one left in the 
streets. The place is deserted. 
The English left this morning at 
three o'clock. Cannon are raging. 

While we were at lunch a woman 
stopped before our window a mo- 
ment in her flight and said to us, 
" From your window you must be 
able to see the firing of the cannon. 
The light can be seen from here." 
In fact, from the upper story we 
can distinguish plainly a veritable 
whirlwind of artillery. It is on the 
plain of Monthyon that the firing is 
the most sustained. Mingled with 
the roar of cannon and the rattle of 

[ 60 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

machine guns we can hear men 
shouting and trumpets sounding the 
charge. They tell us it is our brave 
Zouaves and our Moroccan sharp- 
shooters who are down there in the 
valley, while the enemy artillery is 
on the hills. With the naked eye we 
can see very plainly brown specks 
advancing in columns. 

Shells are bursting three miles 
from us as the crow flies. Black 
and white tufts mount and spread 
about in the air. Under these tufts 
fires spring up, and farmhouses, 
woods, and mills burst into flames. 

The fire and noise are hellish! 

We have in front of us the mag- 
nificent panorama formed by the 
heights of Monthyon and Penchard, 
Chauconin, Neufmontiers ; in the 

[ 6i ] 



Beyond the Marne 

background, Chambry and Barcy. 
All these little wooded hill-tops 
stand out like lace-work against the 
clear sky. In the lowlands, on the 
right of the valley, is Meaux, with 
its cathedral towering over it; below, 
in the foreground, winds the Marne; 
between us and the river are the 
great trees of the Aulnois woods and 
our own garden. 

Can it be possible that in this 
marvellous setting, in this peaceful 
countryside and radiant sunshine, 
men are killing each other? Each 
of the combatants claims God on his 
side. And yet, did not His mes- 
senger on earth say: "Love one 
another"? What have the sons of 
men done with Christ's doctrines of 
love — charity — peace? 
[ 62 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

As long as time endures, in order 
that ideals may live, must the earth 
be drenched with blood and tears? 

What harvest will be garnered 
from all this mowing down of ten- 
der youth, cut off here before our 
eyes? 

Oh, the crushing guilt that weighs 
on the instigators of such a war, and 
the terrible responsibility that is on 
their heads! 

Civilization seems nothing but an 
empty word, that no longer has the 
slightest meaning. We are not, alas, 
ripe for universal peace. And yet, 
how happy nations could be if these 
mountains of gold that are being 
melted up for their destruction could 
be used for their well-being! Shall 
we ever attain to the ideal of peace? 

[63 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Perhaps, but before that time what 
suffering will be oursl 

For the present, we must drive 
out the invaders, thrust back this 
cursed and ambitious people which 
has long been preparing for war, 
and reduce it to impotence. Our 
brave soldiers are setting at the task 
body and soul. 

All political parties have put aside 
their differences and, for the sake of 
the common cause, are walking hand 
in hand. 

May victory keep and strengthen 
this spirit! It would be the first step 
on the road to happiness. 

While the battle rages before us, 
our prayers go out to the heroes who 
are suffering and dying so near at 
hand. Each cannon-shot, as we think 

[ 64 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

of the bloody trail it ploughs in its 
path, is like a stab in the heart. 

And my thoughts are with the 
wounded as they try to crawl out of 
reach of bullets, huddling in a fur- 
row, crouching behind a bush. Some 
of them with their little remaining 
strength write on the back of an old 
envelope their last farewells. 

The vision of my brother rises be- 
fore me. He is bleeding, near unto 
death. He calls for help. Every 
movement that he makes wrings 
from him a groan. By a superhuman 
effort, goaded on by the thought of 
his children and his longing to see 
them again, he succeeds in dragging 
himself to the banks of the Marne, 
in the hope of finding help. To 
assuage his fever he tries to dip his 

[ Ss ] 



Beyond the Marne 

hand in the cool water. But his arm 
refuses to obey. His hand is rigid. 
No one to aid him. Shattered, weak, 
he lies there waiting — waiting for 
the help that never comes. 

I am in despair. Surely there are 
wounded men in agony on the banks 
of the Marne. 

If anyone would go with me, 
perhaps we could organize some 
sort of relief work. But how are we 
to get to the other side of the river? 
All the fishing boats, even the wash 
boat, have been sunk by the English. 
Can we do nothing but stand wait- 
ing here — useless — helpless? 

My brother's little girls are play- 
ing peacefully at our side. Like 
them, we are calm. Not for a mo- 
ment are we afraid. Without saying 
C ^^ ] 



Beyond the Marne 

a word to each other, we seem to 
think the same thoughts, and we 
remain at our post until evening, 
with full confidence. But our emo- 
tion is very great. 

To what merciful providence do 
we owe our certainty that the enemy 
will not reach us, and the tranquillity 
with which we await the end of this 
tragedy? I confess that I do not 
understand. 

One by one the stars break through 
the veil of darkness that comes down 
gently upon us. Now myriads of 
stars are shining in the heavens. 

It is eleven o'clock. Houses are 
in flames, and forests. Here and 
there in the distance camp-fires are 
burning and trench-rockets burst in 
showers, making the valley seem like 

[ 67 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

a great fiery furnace, an ocean of 
flame. 

How insignificant are our own 
troubles in the presence of these 
heaped up ruins, this destruction of 
men and things! 

On the highest tree of the Aulnois 
woods I have just seen a little light, 
square in shape, which alternately 
appears and disappears. 



[ 68 ] 



X 

6 September, 19 14. 

MY first thought this morning 
was to find out what the light 
was that I saw last night. I recog- 
nized the tree from which it came, 
and discovered that several branches 
had been cut to make it easier to 
climb. At the very top an opening 
has been made where the light was 
evidently placed. The leaves just 
above are scorched. Underneath, a 
big branch, fastened across between 
two other branches, forms a plat- 
form. To whom can I report this 
discovery? There are no soldiers 
left in the neighborhood. 
The booming of cannon kept up 

[ 69 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

all night long, though it was not so 
loud as during the day. Before sun- 
rise it began again in full force. 

The same sights as yesterday. 

The noise of the cannonade, 
though still very violent, seems to 
be shifting and going farther away. 
Can it be that our soldiers, after a 
hundred years, are going to repeat 
nearly in the same spot the strategy 
of Napoleon, who saved Paris by 
cutting off Blizcher's army — that 
terrible Bliicher, who likewise made 
his name a by-word by his vandal- 
ism? We have before us his worthy 
descendants — Von Kluck and Von 
Billow. Nor will they break 
through. I feel more and more 
sure of it. 

On our left are the army of Mau- 

[ 70 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

noury and the Moroccan troops; 
immediately behind us, the English 
Army under General French, and 
the French under General Franchet 
d'Esperey. 

To-day I saw some Uhlans ! They 
are beginning to venture out of their 
hiding-places, knowing that they can 
do so with perfect security. I met 
them on the road at noon. They 
had just been to Couilly to get their 
horses shod. Their uniforms look 
very much like those of the English, 
but are more greenish in tone. 

They went along at a jog-trot, with 
their lances under their left arm, 
point downward. They passed by a 
few yards from me, intent on ex- 
amining the chateau. Two or three 
of them glanced at me indifferently. 

[ 71 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

This patrol disappeared over the 
hill to the right of Quincy. Others 
(or else the same ones) were seen 
during the day at Huiry, where, 
with their staff maps spread out be- 
fore them, they inquired the name of 
the commune where they were, and 
also asked for water for their horses. 

This evening a patrol of the 3d 
Hussars is looking for them. 

Several nights ago, Delautre, the 
store-keeper at Demi-Lune was 
awakened by a loud knocking at his 
door and on his shutters. The visitor 
got no answer, so he went away to the 
other houses in the place. Delautre, 
who cautiously opened the blind a 
crack, heardsomeonesay:^^Theyhave 
all cleared out. They must have got 
cold feet. We shall see to-morrow." 

[ 72 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Very early the next morning two 
men appeared at Delautre's house 
and said to him : " You were at home 
last night. Why did n't you answer? 
If we had felt like it we could have 
come in without knocking. We know 
your house. You have a back door 
that 's easy enough to open." With 
that they pushed by him and walked 
in. 

One of them went on with a sneer : 
^'Ha, so you 're scared of the Boches, 
are you? Well, I '11 give you a 
chance to see a few." He went out, 
put up his hand as if to give a signal 
in the direction of the chateau, 
and Delautre saw several horsemen 
emerge from behind the wall of the 
park. They came galloping up to 
Delautre, making their horses prance 

[ 73 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

about on the grass for his special 
delectation. They laughed heartily 
at his dismay. 

The two civilians demanded 
drinks for everybody, and after ex- 
changing a few words in German 
with the one who seemed to be the 
leader, they started down the Couilly 
hill, waving and nodding to the 
cavalry men; the latter, after watch- 
ing them a minute, and waving back, 
galloped off towards Moulin-a-Vent, 
keeping along the park wall. 

Delautre is terrified by this visit. 
One of these men is not a stranger 
to him. When he is questioned, he 
is unwilling to give other details 
than the ones above, saying that 
people would be too amazed if he 
let it be known who this man was. 
[ 74 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

He has been entreated to tell, but he 
always refuses. 

^^ Don't talk to me about that 
patrol," Delautre^ would say every 
time anyone mentioned it. '^ I can- 
not believe what I saw with my own 
eyes. I think of it constantly. After 
the war I will speak, and either that 
man or I will have to leave this 
place." 

Were there several patrols? 

I think so, for Monsieur Da- 
moiseau, a citizen of Voisins, had the 
same adventure as my aunt, this time 
near the oak woods, above the Ma- 
reuil quarries. He also went there 
in the hope of finding a hiding-place 
for his family. 

On the plateau (over opposite the 

* Delautre died suddenly eighteen months later. 

[ 75 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

one where my aunt went) he saw 
five German soldiers observing the 
plain of lies, and several others 
watching the road to Quincy. The 
hill where they were stationed over- 
looks Voisins and Quincy on one 
side, and on the other the plain which 
a few days later was to witness the 
Battle of the Marne. Not knowing 
whether to go forward or back, 
Monsieur Damoiseau stood stock 
still. The Boche who was in com- 
mand asked in perfectly good French 
what he was doing there. 

'' Officer," he replied, " they tell 
me the Germans are coming, so I am 
trying to find a place where my 
family and I can hide." 

*' Are you sure you are n't on a 
spying expedition for the English? " 

[ 76 ] 




a ^ 



^< 



Beyond the Marne 

'^I didn't know there were any 
English about here." 

^'Well, there are. I know it 
whether you do or not. But where 
do you live? " 

" In Voisins, the little village you 
see yonder in the valley." 

'' Yes, I know the place. Well, be 
off, and don't let me catch you 
around here again, or I 'U shoot 
you." 

The poor soul did n't need much 
urging, but took to his heels and ran 
home as fast as his old legs could 
carry him, telling his wife and 
daughter not to stir out of the house. 

Every morning people discover 
that rabbits or chickens are missing. 
Several garden-gates have been 
forced open, and palings torn away. 

[ 77 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

The German patrols go out at night 
to water their horses and get food. 
They have been seen several nights 
crossing the ford at Voisins. 

This evening the battle lasted 
until nine o'clock. 



[ 78 ] 



XI 

7 September, 191 4. 
A BOUT seven o'clock this morn- 
^ ^ ing English scouts arrived be- 
longing to General Snow's division. 
For two whole days we had been 
alone, almost forsaken, it seemed to 
us. It 's joy to see those khaki uni- 
forms once more. 

They are as correct and as gentle- 
manly as ever, our friends the Eng- 
lish. A young officer is kind enough 
to give us news, and good news, too. 
The Germans are beginning to fall 
back. Already a pontoon-bridge 
has been thrown across the Marne at 
Meaux. After trying to cross sixteen 
times, and sixteen times seeing their 

[ 79 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

efforts of no avail, the Germans gave 
up the attempt to cross the river. 
The French General Staff has al- 
ready arrived there, and Gallieni's 
army is advancing from Paris. 

All this good news fills us with joy. 

From now on we shall see no more 
Germans. 

Troops are beginning to arrive. 
A regiment of infantry went through 
Voisins this afternoon. These men 
have come on foot from Paris. 
What a fearful march! They still 
have several miles to go before 
reaching a cantonment. Some of 
them drag themselves along pain- 
fully, their faces streaming with 
perspiration, their legs tottering 
under their weight, staggering like 
drunken men. Others, with a show 

[ 80 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

of cheerfulness, hum marching songs 
to keep up their courage, but what 
a monotonous sound it is! 

They are hot and thirsty, poor 
boys ! They need something to drink. 
We go out with a pitcher of fruit 
syrup and water. They are not al- 
lowed to stop, so we follow on beside 
them and fill their cups which they 
take out hastily as soon as they catch 
sight of us. It seems to please them 
and renew their courage. 

My little nieces are with us. The 
eldest, aged three, is holding up fruit 
which she takes from " Gamma's 
ba'ket." One of the men, as if to 
find new strength in the touch of her 
fresh childish cheeks, asks if he may 
kiss her, saying with tears in his eyes : 
" I have a little girl of my own at 

[ 8i ] 



Beyond the Marne 

home about her age, with light hair 
like hers." Several of the men kiss 
her as they march along, and it makes 
them happy. 

Poor things! Will they ever see 
again those little ones of whom our 
children remind them? 

At the same moment, in a far-off 
home, the mother presses close to 
her breast her youngest born, who is 
asleep. The child stirs slightly. A 
gentle breath moves her fair curls. 
Do not waken, little one. Thy father 
kisses thee. 

The mother's face is growing 
worn. The sister is silent. The 
bride-to-be is on her knees. They 
all have but one thought — the 
Absent One! 
[ 82 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

How many among those men who 
are marching by will see their own 
again? 

Alas! Many of these women, 
these mothers, these sisters, will all 
their lives remain fixed in the same 
attitude — waiting. By force of habit, 
through the long years, each of 
them will keep her ear strained for 
the footsteps on the road, her eye 
fastened on the door, hoping against 
hope to see her loved one enter there. 

The State road is full of troops, 
marching in close formation. The 
ranks extend from the foot of Couilly 
hill as far as the eye can reach, in the 
direction of Meaux, along the streets 
of Voisins and Quincy. The 8th 
Division of the 4th Army Corps, the 

[ 83 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

115th, 117th, and 124th regulars, 
the 148th, 246th, etc., cavalry goes 
towards Charny. 

A captain asks me to show him 
the road to Saint-Fiacre. While I 
give him the information he wants, 
I walk along a moment beside his 
horse. This movement of troops 
interests me. 

Before leaving me, he expresses 
his surprise that I should be here all 
alone, and asks if I am not afraid. 

" No," I answered, '^ I am not 
afraid. Perhaps I shall be, later. 
Do you think. Captain, that there is 
still danger? The Germans are fall- 
ing back, are n't they? " 

"Yes, but who can tell? To- 
morrow you might see very ugly 
things. They are not far away yet." 

[ 84 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

'' They evacuated Penchard yester- 
day, didn't they?" 

"Yes, and they left behind them 
unspeakably foul traces of their 
Kultur." 

" But, Captain, seeing all these 
troops here reassures me. We were 
two whole days without setting eyes 
on a soldier. That was the time to be 
afraid. All the troops you are bring- 
ing up will drive them back still 
further. And besides, Captain, if 
danger threatened, would n't these 
troops insure the escape of the civil- 
ians who are left? " 

" If it were in their power, cer- 
tainly." 

" But, Captain, let me say again, 
I have faith in your soldiers." 

" You are quite right," he said, as 

[ 8s ] 



Beyond the Marne 

he shook hands with me and wished 
me good luck. 

" For my part, Captain, I am sure 
good luck will go with you." 

The 117th stopped at Voisins. 
The soldiers are billeted everywhere, 
but preferably in the few houses that 
are still inhabited. 

This regiment, which 'made the 
retreat from Belgium, has just come 
on foot from Asnieres where it had 
been sent to recuperate. Several of 
the men with bleeding and blistered 
feet stop me in the street to ask if I 
can give them socks. Unfortunately, 
I have none. All I can offer them is 
women's stockings, linen bandages, 
and talcum powder. 

For several days Boche aviators 
have been reconnoitring above us. 
[ 86 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

One of them was only a hundred or 
two feet up, directly over the heights 
of Huiry. We thought he was going 
to land. He looked like an immense 
bat. 

This evening another one came. 
The soldiers were just building their 
fires to cook dinner, when the com- 
mand was passed along: " Stand 
close to the walls." The street, 
which a minute before was swarm- 
ing with people is, to all appear- 
ances, empty and deserted, nothing 
but a single row of men on either 
side, standing close to the houses. 

A platoon in a back street fires 
several times with machine guns. 
We watch anxiously. 

" It 's hit," someone shouts. 

Sure enough, the 'plane gives a 

[ 87 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

lurch and is certainly going to 
fall. 

It is out of control. 

But this was nothing but a trick. 
Once out of reach, it righted itself 
and shot straight forward in the 
direction of Coulommiers, where 
they say the Crown Prince and his 
staff are stationed. 

It was a great xlisappointment. 

The soldiers go on building their 
fires, making little square ovens of 
bricks. Rations have not arrived yet. 
Some of the men, worn out, stretch 
out on the ground to wait. It is 
getting dark. 

The sight of these haggard men, 
gray with dust, blowing on fires 
which cast fitful gleams on their wan 
faces, calls up visions of Dante. 
[ 88 I 



Beyond the Marne 

And still rations do not come. 
The men are too tired to wait, and 
lie down to sleep supperless in any 
sheltered spot they can find. 

The few who are not completely 
exhausted make a descent on the 
houses that are inhabited. They fall 
upon our garden and clean out our 
larder. The salad bowl and kettles 
not being large enough, they season 
and mix a huge salad in tubs and 
washboilers. It is all they will have 
to eat this evening. 

Scarcely anyone was courageous 
enough to wait for rations, which 
were delayed by the block on the 
roads and did not arrive until nearly 
ten o'clock. Not a single man gets up. 

The battle lasted very late last 
night. 

[ 89 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

The officers went up on the plateau 
of Huiry to follow the artillery duel 
that was in progress, and they found 
it amazing. 

On one of my trips to-day I had 
the good luck to meet one of the few 
civilians. It is a man who has come 
from Chelles on foot. He has heard 
that Meaux, Crecy, Coulommiers 
and all the neighboring villages have 
been put to fire and sword. He 
wanted to see his people who live in 
this region. He had to swim across 
the Marne, and was obliged to go 
over and back several times in order 
to bring his clothing. 

He is to return to Paris by the 
same route. I gave him several 
letters which he was kind enough 
to take charge of. They are not 

[ 90 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

of great importance — mostly mes- 
sages to my friends from whom I 
feel so cut off at this moment, but I 
want very much to set my brother's 
mind at rest as to the fate of his 
children. The thought of his anx- 
iety makes me unhappy. 



[ 91 ] 



XII 

8 September, 1914. 

WE were up at four this morn- 
ing. The officers billeted in 
the house were not expecting to 
break camp until seven or eight 
o'clock, but they were suddenly 
roused by a messenger with orders 
to start at once. A hasty breakfast, 
and the signal for departure was 
given. 

I run out into the wet grass of the 
garden to gather all the roses I can 
find. I hand them to the soldiers as 
they leave us saying: " From your 
mothers — from your sisters." 

Tears come into their eyes, poor 

[ 92 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

fellows! One of the officers takes 
my hand, kisses it and says : 

" Your reminding us of our 
mothers and sisters, Mademoiselle, 
touches us deeply. It is with much 
emotion that I tell you, in behalf of 
my comrades and my men, who are 
too moved to speak for themselves, 
how grateful we are for the gra- 
cious vision we shall carry away 
with us to the battlefield with these 



roses." 



I am afraid of breaking down, so 
I turn away abruptly and go to dis- 
tribute fruit to the soldiers. 

Several weeks later I received 
from the mother of one of them a 
letter thanking me for the kindness 
I had done in her name. 

No need to thank me, Madam. In 

[ 93 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

the face of the feelings that stirred 
me at that hour — feelings that I 
could not put into words — this act 
was small indeed. Those brave boys 
starting forth to face the cannon that 
boomed so near at hand — how could 
I make them understand that our 
prayers were with them — followed 
them? This poor makeshift was all 
I could find to let them know at 
this tragic moment that I longed to 
serve as a bond between them and 
their loved ones who were so far 
away. 

I could not help thinking, too, 
that if one of them were to fall, he 
would at least have this little flower 
with him, and so be less alone. 

We were just giving the last fruit 
and flowers to the late-comers when 
[ 94 ] 



Beyond the Marne 
one of them came to tell us he had 
left a side of beef in a store-room. 
" We have n't time to carry this meat 
to the wagons, so if you do not take 
it, it will be wasted. It would be a 
pity if no one used it." 

What shall we do with it? And 
to think of those hungry boys who 
had no supper last night! 

We hardly know what to do with 
this enormous piece of meat. But 
to begin with, there 's only one thing 
to do. My aunt and I carry it with 
great difficulty to a clean place and, 
after a fashion, cut off steaks which 
we broil rapidly and put between 
slices of bread. The men take 
eagerly all they can carry of these 
meat sandwiches and start off on a 
run to find their chums, who, they 

[ 95 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

say, are going to have a " bully old 
time" eating them. 

Things strewn around everywhere 
indicate the haste of the departure. 

The cannonade was very heavy 
again last night. 

Yesterday — Monday ^ — the battle 
was stationary. To-day it seems to 
be farther away; the firing is most 
intense over towards the Ourcq. 

After ten o'clock this morning 
there was not a single shot from the 
enemy. 

The English came down from 
Coutevroult this morning and have 
crossed the Marne. 

The French cuirassiers found a 
few Uhlans at Bouleurs, and cleared 
them out. 

About two o'clock this afternoon 

[96 3 



Beyond the Marne 

French soldiers marched past in the 
direction of the Ourcq. 

In the ambulance of the 115th 
regiment lay a poor boy suffering 
with dysentery. They could not 
take him farther, so he was left at 
Quincy, where he died a few days 
later in terrible agony. He is to be 
buried in the Quincy cemetery. 

It was just as I thought. There 
were wounded men who succeeded 
in dragging themselves to the banks 
of the Marne. 

Sister Jules was summoned to 
dress the wounds of two Moroccan 
sharp-shooters who managed to 
crawl along by the river until they 
were opposite the village of Conde. 
There they were seen and picked up. 

The only horse and carriage left 

[ 97 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

anywhere about was sent to Pont- 
aux-Dames to fetch Sister Jules. 
She was going through deserted 
Couilly when a military automobile, 
driven by two officers, came by and 
stopped. 

"Where are you going?" asked 
one of the officers in surprise. 

" There are wounded soldiers in 
Conde. I am carrying dressings for 
one of them and cupping-glasses for 
the other, who has difficulty in 
breathing." 

" Leave your carriage, Sister, and 
get into our automobile. We will 
have you there in five minutes." 

Sister Jules accepted readily, 

thanking Heaven for sending her 

the means to reach more quickly 

the bedside of those who needed her 

[ 9S I 



Beyond the Marne 

care. When she began working over 
her two wounded men, one of them 
showed her triumphantly a bullet 
he had just taken out of his foot 
himself! The man speaks French 
a little. 

Hussars on patrol on the hill at 
Montpichet have killed Bavarian 
soldiers, they say. A young Boche is 
brought to Pont-aux-Dames. He is 
wounded rather seriously, but he 
appears to be suffering more from 
fright than from pain. His fears do 
not subside until he sees the kind 
face of Sister Jules bending over 
him. 

Our hospital — the annex at Pont- 
aux-Dames, which is only semi- 
official — is installed in a wing of 
the house of the great comedian, 

[ 99 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Coquelin, alongside the wing where 
aged actors have their home. Among 
the retired actors who are there at 
this moment are Messieurs Monti, 
Gravier, Didier, Victor Gay, Mes- 
dames Clarence, Antonia Laurent, 
Marie Georges, and the director. 
Monsieur Hervouet. They are all 
presided over by their dean, Angele 
Desraux, ninety-five years old, whom 
they call ^' grandmother." 

All these good people were much 
frightened last Sunday by seeing 
Bavarians go by. They were in their 
dining-room when they saw them 
pass. The pointed helmets, sixteen 
of them, showed above the sash 
curtains. 

After luncheon the, old people 
were taking their walk in the park 
[ 100 ] 



fX"^^.^. 



•i'lSg' 




— • o 
5 ^ 



< s 




^ 

1 I 



Beyond the Marne 

when they heard voices not far away. 
Behind the tomb of Coquelin, to 
their great amazement, they saw the 
Bavarians sitting on the grass eating 
their luncheon. Suddenly two shots 
interrupted this rustic meal, a signal 
for the rally, doubtless, and the men 
mounted their horses and galloped 
off up the hill. 



[ lOI ] 



XIII 

9 September, 1914. 

THIS morning at nine, armed 
boats went down the canal to- 
wards Trilport. 

A French cavalry division on the 
way to Paris gave us news to-day of 
victory. The Germans have been 
pushed back forty-five miles! 

Miss Aldrich came hurrying down 
the hill at the very moment I was 
starting to run up. With a single 
impulse, each rushes to share her joy 
with the other. 

We feel as if we had just awakened 
from a dream. It seems to me these 
three days have decided the fate of 
[ 102 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

France. All the glory of it belongs 
to those heroes whose dead bodies 
strew the plain. Behind this ram- 
part we are safe. 



C 103 ] 



XIV 

14 September, 1914. 
A T the top of the hill, in the same 
-^ ^ spot where we watched with 
aching hearts the passing of the 
refugees, we are now watching for 
the inhabitants of the countryside, 
who are beginning to come back. 

It is a soft, mellow autumn day. 
Everything is wrapped in a delicate 
veil of mist, and the sun, sifting 
through gently, touches the houses 
with a pale golden light. 

Ah, but what a good and beautiful 
day! They are coming home! 

Yes, there they come, slowly, in 
little groups. 
[ 104 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

Several black specks at the foot of 
the hill! Impatiently we wait until 
they are near enough for us to recog- 
nize them. How different is the look 
in their faces, and how different their 
whole bearing from that of the de- 
parture! 

We are happy to see once more 
even those who were most indifferent 
to us. They are like members of our 
own family returning from a long 
journey. 

Ah! How glad they are to catch 
sight of the roofs of their houses 
down below them in the valley! 

In a few words they tell us what 
they have suffered. They have ex- 
perienced in their wanderings all 
the anguish of the homeless. How 
dark the future looked to them, 

[ 105 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

whereas now, their houses, safe from 
harm, full of sweet welcome, open 
wide their doors to receive them. 

Their home — symbol of the na- 
tive land — is still there. How 
could they have gone away from it? 
Could anything be more beautiful 
to their eyes than their humble 
dwelling — their little white house? 

How clearly they understand now 
that love of one small corner of the 
earth, that love of home, which years 
of peaceful happiness had perhaps 
made dim. 

Beloved spot where one has lived 
and loved and suffered, we have all 
needed this hard trial to show us 
how we cherish you. 

So they are coming home. 

And there, in the distance, where 
[ io6 ] 



Beyond the Marne 

sky meets valley, our heroes lie 
dead. 

Beautiful young heroes, flower and 
hope of our land, who have given 
their lives unfalteringly here, that 
our homes might be saved to us! 

This thought pervades all the 
home-coming, and the gratitude of 
those who are returning floods forth 
to those who are no more. 

Now the setting sun stains the sky 
with crimson, and forms, with bands 
of azure and of white, an immense 
standard which it spreads like a 
winding-sheet over those glorious 
heroes who have entered upon the 
eternal life. 



[ 107 ] 



NOTE BY THE AUTHOR 

Our humble village has nothing very 
noteworthy, unless perhaps its magnifi- 
cent situation on a hillside overlooking 
the Marne and the Grand-Morin, with 
beautiful views in every direction. 

I am going to jot down here a passage 
which sums up the history of the com- 
mune, taken from " Excursions in the 
Valley of the Grand-Morin," by Mon- 
sieur Georges Husson: 

" The Commune of Quincy is one of 
the largest of the Canton of Crecy. 
Built on a high plateau, it comprises the 
village proper, of pleasing aspect, and 
several hamlets : Segy, Moulignon, Voi- 
sins, Jonchery, Huiry, Demi-Lune, etc. 

" The oldest document where Qumcy 
is mentioned is a charter dated 1257, 
in which King Louis IX gives permis- 
sion to cultivate certain lands of the vil- 
lage, in return for the payment of seven 
measures of barley at Christmas, and 
nine deniers for Easter eggs. 

[ 109 ] 



Note by the Author 

" From the thirteenth to the fifteenth 
centuries, passing by the long line of 
over-lords, quite without interest, we 
find nothing remarkable in the history 
of Quincy. But during the Wars of the 
League, June 12, 1590, the village was 
the scene of deplorable events. 

" Chevalier de Thury, Governor of 
Meaux, and Sieur de Saint-Paul, Gov- 
ernor of Brie, at the head of two thou- 
sand men, besieged the village, where 
intrenchments had been made. The in- 
habitants were forced to retreat before 
the besiegers; part of them took refuge 
in the church, and climbed up into the 
galleries that were pierced with loop- 
holes. From there they attacked the 
Leaguers and killed fifty or more of 
them. The latter, exasperated, set fire 
to the seats in the church, and the de- 
fenders, men and women, about a hun- 
dred, were smothered. 

" Meanwhile, the inhabitants of 
Quincy still held out, and did not yield 
until about midnight, after a desperate 
defence. They were condemned to pay 
a large sum of money, and the Leaguers 
did not take their departure until they 
had pillaged the unhappy village. 

[ no ] 



Note by the Author 

" In the nineteenth century, at the 
time of the invasion of 1814, the 
Allies established their headquarters 
at Quincy. Frederic William III, King 
of Prussia, passed the nights of March 
28 and 29 In the New Chateau. 

" Alexander I, Czar of Russia, spent 
the same two nights at the Old Chateau. 
One can still see the room In which he 
slept. The furniture has been carefully 
preserved. 

"Thanks, doubtless, to their illustri- 
ous guests, the commune was spared 
at that time." 

In the twentieth century, to-day, — 
September 9, 19 14, — It is solely due to 
the valor of our soldiers that the village 
has not been subjected to the worst kind 
of horrors. 

H. C.-M. 



[ III ] 



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